So You Can See Things My Way
by Gohanroxme
Summary: Shifting in her seat in a manner that appeared uncomfortable, she told him with a surprisingly bitter tone, "Juvia doesn't like the snow." And with those words, his headache abruptly disappeared on account of the sheer shock that had taken its place. Juvia didn't like the snow? Snow was...snow was himself. Gray was snow, and she...didn't she claim to love him?/ Gruvia, R&R, Oneshot


So You Can See Things My Way: Gray/Juvia: In which Juvia does not like snow.

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Fairy Tail**_**. **

_A/N: Whatever. I know it's snowed at least twice in the serious__ (__when Lucy found Cana drunk, and during Juvia's special chapter) but what if, anyway, lol._

When he awoke, it was not without a sore back, a headache, or a couple bruises, but it was without his shirt and pants.

Groaning, he lifted himself into a sitting position and found that he'd fallen asleep atop of one of the picnic tables, probably because of his earlier drunken battle with the fire dragon-slayer, which had lead to the both of them knocking one another unconscious.

He also discovered that his clothing was hanging from the corner of the table, and when he reached for them with a yawn, there was nobody in the guild.

The hall was silent, deserted, tables, stools, and chairs of all kinds unoccupied. It was rather unnerving because really, since when had it ever been that way?

He'd only ever known the guild to be rowdy and unruly, so with the guild so . . . empty . . . he felt rather cold for a change, deciding to yank his long-sleeved, navy T-shirt on over his head and pants up to his hips.

But when he heard the faint clinking of a glass being set down, his head snapped around toward the noise as he nearly suffered a heart attack.

There was a young woman clad in blue seated at the bar, sipping something leisurely from a straw, legs crossed, wavy, azure locks of hair falling out from underneath a Cossack hat and rolling down the shoulders of her heavy coat.

She, other than he, was the only one inside the guild.

"Juvia?" He blinked at her in confusion and edged off of the wooden table. "What's going on? Where's everybody else?"

Said water mage swiveled around on her stool to face him somewhat . . . tonelessly. "Oh, Gray-sama is awake?"

"Yeah, I'm . . ." He made his way toward her, wrinkling his nose at how much the headache seemed to weigh him down when he stood. "Why's it so . . . _abandoned_ in here?"

Her attention shifted back toward her drink, where she twirled the ice around listlessly with her straw. "The entire guild is outside . . . ."

"Outside?" It was then that his ears picked up the sound of laughter, of good-natured bellows and yells, coming from just outside the building, and he raised a questioning eyebrow. "What for?"

She fidgeted with a couple strands of her hair, her face strangely a . . . mask. It puzzled him, to be truthful, since he'd never recalled a time where she had not worn her emotions on her sleeve while around him.

"It's snowing, Gray-sama . . . ."

Snowing? His eyes widened with the fact that he should've sensed it earlier, what with him being an ice mage and all. He should've felt that chill in the air sooner, something comforting and natural, like snow always was to him. He inhaled deeply, as if he could smell it (which he could, actually, that sweet, crisp aroma.)

It was snowing. Everyone must have been outdoors cheering and messing around in the dropping snow, enjoying the luck of natural frost, so what was Juvia doing hanging around all by herself?

"Oi." He looked at her with a curious tilt of his head. "Don't you wanna go outside, too?" Because he sure as heck did. Maybe after he located his own coat . . . .

Shifting in her seat in a manner that appeared uncomfortable, she told him with a surprisingly bitter tone, "Juvia doesn't like the snow."

And with those words, his headache abruptly disappeared on account of the sheer shock that had taken its place.

Juvia didn't like the snow? Who didn't like _snow_? It was the absolute definition of pureness, white and unblemished, whimsical. Snow was . . . snow was himself. _Gray_ was snow, and she . . . didn't she claim to love him? And so he found it peculiar that she could dislike the mere component of which his magic originated from, the mere thing that she thought (and himself too) was so compatible with her.

Honestly. Snow. Water. They were one and the same. They were itself.

"You . . ." He approached her, baffled, eyes moving to meet hers, though she refused it and continued to be entertained by her beverage. "Don't like snow?"

"Yes." Her voice was clipped and brisk, but intriguingly composed as she played restlessly with the end of her outfit. "Juvia does not like snow. She hates it, even."

He noticed how she wouldn't stop fiddling, playing with her hair, with her clothes, stirring her drink, tapping her foot although there was not anything to tap it against . . . . She was reeking of anxiety, whereas her face said nothing. Maybe that was why she wouldn't meet his gaze. The eyes always told the truth, no matter how you comprehend facial expressions.

He frowned at her before he could help it, (he shouldn't have been that let down; it was her own opinion) but she still caught the astonished look on his face, sighing, her concentration elsewhere, "Juvia's dislike towards snow has nothing to do with Gray-sama. She admires he and his ice very, very much."

He scrutinized her suspiciously, wondering when she'd learned to tell him that without a blush or a squeal, or the sort. He guessed with slight concern that the snow must've really been bumming her out, or something.

He actually wanted to pout. Snow wasn't supposed to do that to people . . . .

"What's the matter with it?" He asked instead, puzzled. "Why can you like my ice, but not the snow outside?"

Her fingers drummed noiselessly against her thighs as she continued to keep her eyes averted from his. "Gray-sama's ice can manifest from air. The snow comes from rain."

He squinted at her, one hand in his pants pocket. "And?"

"Well . . ." Her gaze finally rose to lock with his and in an instant, he detected melancholy, discomfort, and stubborn acrimony . . . some sort of spite. The emotion within her stare took him aback. Was this all over snow? "You can say that Juvia is envious . . . ."

He exhaled through his teeth, thinking that if her responses were going to be so cryptic, they might as well have been playing _20 Questions_.

So he decided to stride over and swing himself casually onto the stool on her left, resting his elbow on the counter and his chin in his palm, facing her. He did care about her and he didn't like any of his friends to be sad . . . and especially not over his magic. So yeah, he was gonna get some answers.

"Why should you be, exactly?" He took in the angle of her face, the upset fidgety of her jaw, the lowering of her eyes.

She inhaled deeply and rather shakily before tracing the ridges in the wooden bar counter. "G-Growing up . . . Gray-sama knows that . . . nobody liked Juvia because she would only bring despair and gloom by the rain that followed her."

He grew alarmed with the hurt that doused her words. She had always sounded quite downcast when speaking of her past, but . . . that was abrupt . . . .

"They would always call Juvia names and avoid her and curse her and her dreadful rain. But," instead of pain, annoyance and displeasure flickered across her features, "they liked the snow. They always, always liked the snow and played in it, prayed for it to fall, cheered and took delight over it."

The sharpness of her tone amazed him, really. He'd never known her to be so bitter, for her eyes to narrow so hard.

"Everybody likes snow and I don't understand." Her frowned deepened. "Juvia doesn't understand how everybody could hate her, hate her and the rain, but welcome snow when snow is nothing but . . ."

His eyes widened in sympathetically. Now he got it. And it was relatively unfair.

" . . . the rain . . . ." They uttered it at the same time and she looked at him in surprise, actually allowing a small grin, albeit wistfully.

Now she was blushing like the water mage he knew, coiling a lock of her hair around one finger. "It- it's so childish, I know, and Juvia has Fairy Tail now, so she shouldn't hold on to such petty grudges or care for such memories. But . . ." Her voice dropped an octave. "Juvia's heart still does ache with how differently snow and rain are treated."

He then rose abruptly to his feet, impulsively knowing he should do, taking her slender hand in his.

"Ah, G-Gray-sama, what are you . . . ?"

"We're going outside." He said it firmly, dominantly, don't-you-dare-resist-ly.

Her fingers were sweaty in his. "But . . . J-Juvia doesn't like the snow!"

"I'll make you like it." She gasped when he turned to wink at her. "Since you just being you already made me start to like rain. We can change each other's mind."

Juvia looked at him, a peculiar expression adorning her features, before giving him a tentative smile. "If Gray-sama says so . . ."

So he guided her to the French doors.

* * *

Her face fell, because outside was even worse than the icy wind that had just stung her cheeks. It was white, everywhere, and all that her eyes could see for miles. And now that the gleeful cheers and joyful laughter were louder in her ears, reminding her of the same merriness of her past, something unpleasant began to boil in the pit of her stomach. She was feeling ill, irritated, and gloomy all at once by coming out here.

It was not the same. It was not the same as Gray-sama. He did not make her feel this way. He did not make her feel _cold_.

"Ah, G-Gray-sama, Juvia is . . ."

He took her hand. He took her hand in his again, and she shut her mouth because it was _warm_, a warmth with enough intensity to travel throughout her body.

"It's fine," he murmured to her, grinning, and for a moment, she figured it might be. That she wouldn't completely hate it, the flurries falling into her eyelashes, or the uncomfortable wetness in her hair.

Taking a step forward, her boots sunk into the white crispness covering the ground, and she almost pulled a face at how it seemed to tug her in.

Gray-sama was still holding her hand, leading her into another step, and it was still warm and gloveless, which was when she noticed that he was still shirtless . . . and that he was positively smiling, dark eyes gleaming with a youthfulness that she'd only ever seen when he was brawling.

It was only this sight that had her own lips curling upward with contentment. "The snow makes Gray-sama happy, doesn't it?" she inquired quietly, watching as he averted his gaze from the sky.

"Yeah," he replied, although he sounded far away, as though he were somewhere much better. "Snow is where my heart is . . ."

She found that an endearing way of putting it, something tender that caused a little yanking in her chest, since often times, she'd say to herself, _Gray-sama, you're where _my_ heart is._

And looking at him then made the weight on her chest lift and uneasiness dissipate as she wondered how she could ever hate something that made the love of her life so delighted, or something that was ultimately a part of him.

_None of them went back indoors until nightfall. _

* * *

When the rest of the guild came back inside the hall, shivering and exhausted, he saw her in the same position she was in when he'd woken up earlier- sitting at the bar, and nursing a drink.

This time though, the drink was steaming, so he figured it to be hot cocoa as he made his way toward her.

"Hey," he said, sitting down next to her. "You, um, you okay?"

The water mage glanced sideways at him, cheeks still flushed from the cold, a tiny smile gracing her lips. "Juvia is fine, Gray-sama . . ."

So she was fine. Well, she _was_ much less fidgety than before. In fact, she was no longer fidgeting and looked to be at peace. That was good. And while they were outside, her uncharacteristic scowl had disappeared after maybe fifteen minutes. But how to go about this . . .

"So do you . . . still hate the snow?" For some reason, asking her this made him nervous. It was like he was being insensitive, thinking that her mind-set could just change so abruptly. And also, what if her feelings hadn't changed? That would have him feeling like a failure.

Juvia turned then to face him, and it startled him, how bright her beam was. "No, Juvia no longer hates the snow."

_She doesn't?_ It actually startled him more, how glad he was to hear that.

"In fact, she's rather grateful to it . . ."

Surprised, he arched an eyebrow. First she despised snow, now she appreciated it? Sure, it's fun to mess around in, but it's nothing to suddenly have gratitude for, not after a life of detesting it so much.

His expression softened. "Look, Juvia, if you don't mean that, you don't gotta to say it just for me. It can't be so easy to change your mind, not for something that personal."

"But Gray-sama . . ." She swiveled in her stool her hand finding his for the third time that day, and he felt the thing beneath his ribs do something odd, yet not unpleasant. " . . . you truly did sway Juvia's heart."

Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but perhaps she was whispering on purpose, seeing how close she was leaning toward him.

Her breath smelled of chocolate. He swallowed.

"Wh-What did?" He stammered just as gently. "How?"

Juvia tilted forward, the slightest of pinks dusting her cheeks as the slightest of smiles curved her mouth, dainty fingers reaching to trace the outlines of his lips. "_Your smile."_

_A/N: R&R!_


End file.
